A Time to Plant

I feel as though I am somewhere between a time to plant and a time to pluck what is planted. Throughout the years I have seen seeds sewn, some have fallen on fertile grounds, others (though it pains me to remember them) among the thorns. I have also, however, had the privilege of nourishing and raising up the seedlings, watching them grow little by little. The greatest and rarest joy is when the time to harvest comes and all of the work, time, patience, watching, waiting, praying comes to fruition and the fruit of your labor is right there in your dirty, calloused hands.

There are various cycles of this pattern in my life. There are things that are planted and pop right up ready to go before you remember to even water it. Others are planted, cared for and eventually lost amongst the others that bear faster and brighter fruit. These interest me, not in a way that is always on my mind... so perhaps intrigue is a better term for them. It is these plants of long-suffering that I -knowingly or unknowingly- keep in a far corner of my garden. I come across them every so often when watering a near by plant whose seed was sewn near by, or while wandering about the grounds in awe of the garden as a whole, but at times I am drawn back to them. Back directly to them.

I remember one such fruit. I was twelve and going through some of the worst pain a family could muster under circumstances they brought upon themselves. I remember sitting on the floor in my room, music blaring. I took a small palm-sized notebook and scribbled "God, let me and my sisters be alright." And that was it. The seen was sewn and I walked away to try to keep other plants clearly dying alive. Years and years later I'd be going through old boxes in an attic, find this teal green notebook and begin to weep. We are all alright. Despite my neglect the Lord had heard the plea of a desperate child and kept a promise. The revelation of this beautiful fruit was at the precise moment I needed to remember that God does what He says He will.

Though we are faithless, He remains faithful for He cannot deny Himself. Moments like that bring back memories of other forgotten seeds and leave me to wonder if there are even more that I have forgotten about so long ago that I don't even know I have anything to have forgotten.

I am entering a new season. It is one that I can't tell from here if it will include planting or plucking what has been planted. The Lord has told me that this is a season of restoration... more to follow.